


Two weeks

by phisen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 11:36:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10217144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phisen/pseuds/phisen
Summary: Not seeing Victor for two weeks makes a katsudon... hungry for intimacy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Trying my wings, testing something else than angst for a change XD
> 
> Thanks to [TenchiKai](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TenchiKai/pseuds/TenchiKai) for being my beta. Highly appreciated!

Two weeks. Two weeks without him. It was probably the longest time they'd been without each other since he moved to Russia. It felt strange. Even though they weren't joined at the hip when they were home together, just knowing that the other was there, was around… it made all the difference.

He missed him. Terribly. He missed all the little things. Sleeping on his arm, feeling his breath on his face. Those little touches that were more encouraging than nothing else. The small talk. His silly humor. The walks outside with the dog.

Of course, he missed the… other things too. How he made him feel appreciated. How he, time and time again, made something stir within him as soon as he got close. How the breaths on his face suddenly could mean something else entirely. How they always ended up together. In synch, somehow.

Tomorrow evening, it would all change. He had pictured their reunion in his mind for days now. How his voice would call for him as soon as he stepped through the door. How his arms would be open and welcoming for him to dive into. How the embrace would feel, how the kiss would feel. How he would taste. How he would smell.

His cheeks heated up slightly. Maybe, just maybe, they would reacquaint with each other in some other way too. He hadn't pictured that reunion at all but he suddenly felt compelled to. His mind started to wander. Started to feed him with images of his hungry eyes. His bare skin. His back, they way the muscles played when he looked down at him from his vantage point when they…

"Oh…" He exhaled, slowly. His cheeks were burning now. He really wished for him to come home.

* * *

To get his mind off things, off him for at least a minute, he decided to make himself useful. He started with his cleaning routine. Starting in the kitchen, he washed the dishes and wiped off all the countertops. He hadn't really been doing much cooking during the last fortnight, so the task wasn't as time consuming as he'd expected it to be.

He had hoovered some days before, and although it was a little messy due to the fact that they had a dog in the household, he decided that it would have to do. He decided to change the sheets, remembering that Victor once said that clean sheets were one of life's simplest luxuries. He really wanted to make him feel that coming home was a luxury and that he had something to do with it.

As he carried the sheets, pillowcases and duvet covers to the bathroom, he figured that he might as well start the washing machine. He looked in the hamper. It wasn't too full, maybe he could wash the bed linens and some clothes and make it slightly more manageable? He emptied the hamper on the floor, trying to find colours that would go with the linens.

As he sorted out some lightly coloured clothes, he suddenly noticed one of Victor's shirts. He picked it up and was about to toss it into the washing machine when he got a swiff. A swiff of him. He stopped, mid-motion, and brought the shirt back. To his nose. He inhaled. Yes, it smelled like him. That wonderful smell of expensive deodorant and a well matched perfume. It made him miss him even more, he realised. Also… he felt heady. His smell had the same impact on him as his presence.

He decided to wash everything he'd sorted out, except the shirt. He felt a little silly, holding on to the garment like it was a child's coveted blankie. But he couldn't help it. That smell awoke something within him. A need that his mind and body desperately wanted to be sated. As he walked to the bedroom, he felt his pulse quicken. His mind was filled with nothing but him and that was something he wanted to sustain. For a little bit longer.

* * *

He put his earbuds in and started to flip through his playlist. Nothing felt… right. He decided to put on something classical, trying to remember what he'd danced ballet to back in the day. No, that would give him the wrong associations. He decided on Chopin, The Nocturnes.

As the piano's soothing and slightly longing sound started, he retreated. Found that place in his mind where there was nothing but memories of him. His favorite place. He rolled over to his side, exhaled and asked his mind to open up. The smell of his shirt made it easy for him to reach the right mindset, instantly.

The first image that came to him was… their first kiss. How they had surprised each other in totally different ways. How that kiss was the birth of what they now had. He felt warm inside, remembering that scene. How their lips had met and how that sensation erased the hurt he would have felt otherwise, being knocked over and falling back first down on the ice.

The second image was their reunion. When he came back to Japan from Russia. How their eyes, hearts and minds had met, only to be separated by something as trivial as glass. How he couldn't stay in place, waiting for the sliding doors to open. How they had fallen into each other and… how he knew, right then and there, that he was everything he ever wanted.

As the third image started to materialise before him, he slid down his sweatpants slightly, just below his hips. He felt slightly self conscious, but as the memory became stronger, more vivid, he continued with his briefs. Sliding them down just enough for him to reach. As he took hold of himself, he saw those blue eyes before his inner eye. How they had been so full of everything he wanted to be his and only his, until the end of time.

He felt his breathing grow more shallow as he continued to stroke himself. Tried to remember what it felt like when he was passive and taken care of, when he was in his hands. Those hands that never disappointed. Those hands that guided him so well through the highs and lows of desire.

He got startled as he heard his ringtone in his ears, almost letting a yelp pass through his lips. Someone was calling him! It was so inconvenient, so embarrassing, so mortifying. He pressed the button on his headset and tried to get his breathing in control.

"Hi, this is Yuuri." He heard how strained his voice was. He wanted to sink through the bed and end up somewhere else.

"Love? It's me."

"Victor?!" Now, he felt even more embarrassed, strangely enough.

"I just wanted to call you, say goodnight. I can't wait to see you."

"I… I can't wait to see you too. I… I've missed you terribly."

"Oh… I love you. Hey, you sound... Are you doing something… physical right now?" His voice sounded mirthful. Like… he knew?

"Uh… No, no, you… um, called me when I was… I'm doing the laundry." That lie wouldn't even make a child believe he was telling the truth. Especially not in combination with the sound of his voice.

"Really?" He sounded extremely amused. He knew, alright.

"Yes."

"Well… I shouldn't keep you from doing the… laundry. Thank you for changing the sheets."

"Oh, don't mention it. I know what you like, so…"

"You do. You really do. So… I'll see you tomorrow evening, then. Sleep tight, Yuuri. Hope you'll have pleasant dreams."

"I love you. I can't wait for you to come home."

"I've figured as much. I love you too. See you."

"Bye, Victor."

"Bye, Yuuri."

* * *

He hung up. Feeling extremely embarrassed. It seemed like he'd been read like an open book. They had never talked about that kind of relationship before. The kind you had with yourself.

He put his hands to his cheeks. If they had been burning before, they were raging like hellfire. He felt really unsettled. What if he was to bring that up when he came home tomorrow? That would end him instantly, make him feel so stupid and adolescent. He really hoped that he was wrong, that he had read Victor's voice based on how he was feeling at that moment and not how he actually had sounded.

As the music came back into his ears, trying to coax him back into some kind of relaxation, he tried to connect with himself a little. Yes, there was still a small ember there. Maybe, it could be fanned a little. Maybe, it could be convinced to flare up again?

He felt torn. He could probably wait until tomorrow, but… what if he was tired when he got home? Not feeling it? He decided to resume. Blow into that fire a little. He closed his eyes and tried to find his way again.

It was slightly harder to focus now. He had to leave the memory of them in Barcelona, it felt too associated with him being embarrassed for the time being. He tried to remember something else, like… yes, when they first had each other. The fire flared up instantly.

He remembered how it had started with kisses, soft at first. How he had been helped out of his t-shirt and how Victor had been quick to take off his shirt. How close they had been, how hard his heart had been beating, close against his naked chest. How he had been tipped over, gently and how their mouths had gotten hungrier, more gluttonous. How his lips had felt on him, on his chest, his neck, his shoulders. How his tongue had felt soft and teasing at the same time.

Yes, it was easier now, finding that place in his mind.

He remembered how he had been undressed, by hands that felt warm and eager. How his voice sounded when he asked him if he could show him how he wanted it. How close he had been reaching an immediate release by hearing him ask that very question. How he had taken hold of him, putting his shivering hand on top of his and…

An earbud escaped, fell out of his ear. He opened his eyes.

"Surprise."

Warm lips against his. A soft, long kiss that indeed conveyed the longing they felt and shared.

"You… you're-"

"Shh. Continue. Or you do want me to take over?"

He felt perplexed. He was home. He really was home. Here. With him.

"You-"

"I couldn't wait to see you." He smiled that supernova smile that was meant for him and him alone.

They embraced. Yuuri felt needy. He dug his fingers hard into the back he'd been missing for two weeks.

"You still want to listen to what you're listening to, or…" Victor's voice purred in his ear.

"I… no, I want to hear you."

He let him go, slowly. He enjoyed seeing him get out of bed, undressing with him watching reverently. That body, he still couldn't believe that he had access to it. The epitome of everything he had yearned for ever since he was a boy.

"Do you have something particular in mind," Victor asked as he slid on top of him, kissing his neck slowly and passionately.

"N… no, I…"

"Then I can do with you as I see fit?"

He could only nod as he was scooped up and carried to the kitchen.

The marble countertop of the kitchen island was cold against his back, but only for a moment. The traction the stone created against his skin created a sensation he would never forget, as he got rocked, pulled and clawed closer to the drop.

"Tell me how much you've missed me. Show me!" His words brought forth his release. He let go with a voice that said it all.

He had indeed missed him. Terribly.

* * *

They ended up in the sofa. It was hard to tell where one ended and the other started.

"I… I can't believe…" Yuuri was spent. Exhausted.

"That I'm home?" Victor chuckled, as he trailed his fingers along Yuuri's spine.

"Yes! Um… Yes, but no, that… that we actually did that." He got silenced with a kiss. After a while, a question popped into his mind. "Victor, did you know that I… um… you know, before?"

"Of course. I watched you for quite some time before I called you. I really love that you had my shirt with you in bed."

Yuuri blinked. He instantly felt that scorching heat again. His cheeks would be the end of him, eventually. "Where… were you when you called," he asked with a low voice. Feeling mortified that he'd been watched when he was… pleasuring himself. With the help of his shirt.

"In the bathroom, of course. Why do you think I knew that you'd changed the sheets?"

That smile, combined with that reassuring touch against his cheek, made his insecurities melt away. Somehow, they didn't seem to matter. Not anymore.

Not when he was home. Together with him.


End file.
